By John R. Greenwood
I’ve come to embrace quiet.
Quiet unlike silence includes
the steady hum of the clothes dryer
in the other room. Pre-dawn, when
the traffic is sparse the tic and tock
of a wall clock whispers a familiar rhythm.
It’s November, the heat is on.
The faint cracks and clicks of the
warm flowing through the metal vents
remind me to be grateful
for the roof above my head.
Quiet allows mindful thought, while the brain
stretches and idles gently beside.
The best quiet is made of layer upon
layer of distant sounds. Soft and soothing
sounds that carry no threat nor angst.
Peace and quiet are rare, like the quiet knock
of a childhood friend at the backdoor.
A friend you haven’t seen in years.
A friend you dearly miss and weren't expecting.